


A Man's Rite of Passage

by smileykylie29



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Coming of Age, Harry Potter had a neglectful childhood, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Other, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Ron teaches Harry to shave, mentions of puberty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29201145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smileykylie29/pseuds/smileykylie29
Summary: Many days in Ron’s life he had somehow taken on the position of Harry’s older brother. A father figure with no discerning knowledge. One lost boy trying to save another. But Ron had no regrets. Had no qualms about reassuring  Harry, it wouldn’t be very long and he could come to finish the summer at the burrow. A promise heavy in his voice for his best friend to cling to like a drowning man on a lifeboat.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	A Man's Rite of Passage

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short blurb about how sweet and naturally brotherly Ron has always been in my head. The child was smarter than even the novel series gave him credit for, and I believe Harry's homelife did not go as unnoticed as Harry's uninformed narrations seemed to make it.  
> This, as always has not been edited for mistakes, nor BETA'd by anyone. Skip over the misspellings and mistakes please and thank you!

The first time Ron noticed it, he kept quiet. Harry had never been particularly sensitive about being called out on his appearance, but Ron in all of his thirteen years of wisdom knew that this was not something you blurted out over the house table at dinner. Besides, the boys had bigger fish to fry. Like trying to convince McGonagall that she should allow Harry into Hogsmeade without written permission. It's really only peach fuzz, so far. Ron looks at his best friend’s face fondly and wonders what the boy will look like as a man. He thinks back on the misadventures the two had somehow found themselves a part of and only hopes they both reach manhood, in order for him to see it. 

The second time Ron notices, Harry’s too upset for him to make a mention. For as many days as the boys have spent together this, Ron thinks, is the first he has seen Harry cry. They’re back from a trip to Madam Rosemerta’s and Harry can’t seem to catch his breath. Not only is a mass murderer out to get him, but the criminal was intended to be Harry’s godfather. Ron knows without hearing the words that Harry is far too caught up in the unfairness of his world to be bothered with a few chin hairs. 

The third time Ron notices is different. Harry and Hermione are patiently waiting for Madam Pomfrey to release Ron and his newly healed leg. There are three days left in the term, and exams are over. Harry looks happier than he’s been all year. A toothy grin crosses the boy’s face and he seems to be bouncing on the balls of his feet. Sirius and Buckbeak must be somewhere over the English Channel by now. He looks like Harry from the Hogwarts Express again. That first day three years ago when Ron didn’t have a care in the world but finding a compartment with a friend inside. And find it he did. 

Yes, Ron thinks. This third time is different. The trio makes their way back to the common room, as Ron continues to take small glances at Harry’s ever-growing sideburns and lovely smile. They make jokes about their recent near-death experience and wishes for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. 

“Harry, let’s go get my chessboard and we can bring it back and play,” Ron suggests once he noticed Harry’s pause at the first vacant sofa of the common room. Hermione snickers and looks up from her seat on the floor. “Oh,” she begins in a teasing tone, “it takes two of you now? You’re worse than a pair of girls.” 

She gets a laugh out of Harry, and he continues to make himself comfortable in the cushions. “Go on. I’ll be here when you get back.” He joins in on the teasing. 

“No mate, come with me. I’ve got to show you something.” 

Harry and Hermione send him an incredulous look that would have left an outsider wondering if they were siblings. Ron knows better. Their dark skin and smart mouths might make them similar, but they were adjacent if they were anything. 

“What I can’t see it? I’m not invited?” Hermione continues her jest with slight irritation. She peers up through her lashes at Ron, then Harry on the sofa. Harry catches her eye and shrugs. 

“It’s just lad stuff, Hermione. You wouldn’t be interested.” Ron replies. 

“I’m interested in plenty ‘lad stuff’ on any other day. You’ve drugged me through enough, haven’t you?” 

Hermione had a point. She had been the feminine touch on the trio since the faithful night of the bathroom troll. She had put up with the lewd conversations about wanking, the belching contests. She had even grown accustomed to cleaning the boys up after the constant muggle fights they seemed to get themselves into.

“Yeah go on Ron. What have you got to show us?” Harry finished the debate in his 'leader of the group' finality. 

Ron sighed and leaned in closer to the pair. If Harry was going to make it a group project, Ron could at least keep his loyalty enough to close the conversation off to the rest of the Gryffindors. 

“I was going to show you how to shave your face, Harry. But if Hermione wants to tag along so bad, I suppose I could help her out with that unibrow she’s been growing.” Hermione scoffed and shifted her back off Harry’s knee as if it had electrocuted her. “Ass,” she whispered quietly. 

“I mean. Unless you’re trying to grow a beard. But that might take a bit. It took you all year to grow what you’ve got.” Ron teased, lightly

“No,” Harry said defensively. “I just didn’t realize I was growing anything. Do you think I need to shave? Hang on, do you shave?” 

The boy's bathrooms were communal by year. However, Ron and Harry were hardly ever meeting their needs at the same time. Ron had begun his fight with puberty a bit younger than most boys, and by nightfall, he was a sweaty spiky mess. He would normally go through his hygiene routine before bed. Harry however was still a boy in many ways. The shortest male in their year, still clinging onto a soft jawline and delicate hands. The only upkeep Harry felt the need to do was wash off in the mornings after night terrors had left him sticking to his sheets.

“Yeah. Dad taught me how last summer. He said it was my rite of passage, or what have you. I was getting peach fuzz like you’ve got.” Ron reached up and ran his fingers down the side of Harry’s cheek. He mused at how much easier it was now, to touch Harry with little warning. His best friend from three years ago would have flinched as if you had hit him. 

“So yeah, dad gave me Percy’s old shaving kit and showed me how to use it. There’s a spell you know. That will shave your face for you. But if you aren’t careful and you don’t tell it exactly what you want it to do, it will turn you into a crater-face, so dad said most wizards start out shaving the muggle way. I can show you how he taught me. Unless… your muggles have already shown you or something.” He added quietly.

Harry cast his eyes quickly down to the floor, and back up to Ron’s face again. He shook his head and offered no other answer. 

Ron was certain Harry’s uncle had not taken the time to show Harry much of anything when it came to how to be a man. But he and Hermione hoped if they kept asking the questions, one day, Harry just might answer them. Whether they liked the answers or not, would still be up to guesswork. 

From what Ron knew, the muggles were a speech impediment for Harry. They were a locked door inside of a cage inside of a fortress inside of the walls behind Harry’s eyes. The muggles were only spoken about in offhanded jokes, and hand wringing confessions. They were the reason Harry would sometimes sneak food off the house tables and into school robe pockets.

The reason Harry only ever opened up Christmas gifts from school friends, and Ron’s mother. The reason he’d craved professor Lupin’s attention as if he’d never had an adult look at him like he were something worth breathing life into. 

Ron might have been a self-absorbed teenager, but his eyes were open enough to know that if Harry’s muggles didn’t even meet his basic needs, there was probably no way in Rowena Ravenclaw’s underwear drawer that they’d taught him how to shave. 

“Alight. Well. I’ll teach you. No big deal, mate.” Ron said softly. He stood from his perch next to Harry and peered down at Hermione on the floor. She was anxiously watching Harry’s face. As soon as he stood to follow, Hermione broke into a small approving smile and turned her head from Harry’s view. “Hmm. I suppose you’re right Ron. That’s just lad stuff. I’ll be here when you get back.” 

Many days in Ron’s life he had somehow taken on the position of Harry’s older brother. A father figure with no discerning knowledge. One lost boy trying to save another. But Ron had no regrets. Had no qualms with sending his shaving kit home with Harry for the summer. Claiming it was nearly third hand, and he wouldn’t miss it with so many brothers at home to borrow from. Besides, he’d reassured Harry, it wouldn’t be very long and he could come to finish the summer at the burrow. A promise heavy in his voice for his best friend to cling to like a drowning man on a lifeboat.


End file.
